As the state Department of Environmental Conservation slow-cooks a survey intended to gauge residents’ feelings about the turkeys in their midst, one Staten Islander who had a chance encounter with dozens of plucky members of the ever-increasing group summed up his attitude in one word: Surprise.

“I had no idea they were there. When I saw them, the only thing I could think to do was take out my iPhone and start filming,” said financial planner and amateur videographer Anthony J. Carro, who sent the chuckle-worthy footage to silive.com. “All of a sudden I see these huge birds and hear all the noise they’re making. It was weird.”

Carro, a Westerleigh resident whose office is on Hylan Boulevard near Benton Avenue in Dongan Hills, had been driving what he called the “back route” to work when he spotted the members of a rafter — the turkey term for flock — said to exceed 150.

His childlike wonder lends a tenderness to the video clip, which also serves to show just how many turkeys there are.

“It was funny because nobody was running from me, and there was that one guy who was just staring at me when I started filming,” he said, describing how three or four other cars also pulled over to gawk at the procession. “The neighbors around there must be annoyed by people driving slow to look at the birds.”

After learning about the decade-old debate over the turkeys — birds that, according to the DEC, are not technically wild but rather “captive-bred turkeys that were released (not necessarily by accident) or escaped” — Carro mused:

“I’m not sure it would bother me if I lived there; but often things aren’t a problem until something happens. Because of how slowly they move, if one got on Hylan Boulevard caused somebody to swerve and, God forbid, cause an accident, it could turn into an issue.”

Indeed, as the rafter grows in size and searches for food, the birds are venturing farther afield from their one-time home base near Staten Island University Hospital, Ocean Breeze. Numerous Hylan Boulevard crossings have been reported.

Meanwhile the DEC is saying the survey it announced last month should be available early next year for residents of “neighborhoods that the turkeys frequent” (though no specifics were available about neighborhoods, or how the survey will be distributed).

But that is just “step one” in a process that lacks a specific timeline.

“Community input will be sought in this matter,” assured DEC spokesman Thomas Panzone. “Based on the results, DEC will engage other agencies, elected officials, community leaders and wildlife experts in a discussion of options for managing the population.”

Among the options on the table: Leaving the birds alone if it is determined they do not pose a quality-of-life or health risk; relocating them to a sanctuary where there is no chance they will breed with truly wild turkeys and pollute the gene pool, or harvesting and donating them as food for the needy.

The last option would be morally contemptible and questionable from a health standpoint, said Greg Ruggiero, a Dongan Hills residents dubbed by locals as the “turkey guy” for his efforts on the birds’ behalf.

“Who knows what those birds have been eating; it’s an urban environment,” said Ruggiero, who has formed a community of like-minded folk and drummed up pledges of everything from money to land.

Still, he doubts the DEC will take them up on it. “They will never give up the birds to the private sector; if they do and we are successful, they will look like dupes,” he opined. “If we as a private sector take them over and we’re not successful, they’ll get in hot water.”

He said last week he saw about five turkeys crossing Hylan at Burgher Avenue.

“I pulled my car over to watch this; luckily nobody sped by me or they would have started killing birds,” he said.

Turkeys everywhere on Staten Island's East ShoreAs the state Department of Environmental Conservation slow cooks a survey it promised to gauge Dongan Hills residents' thoughts about the turkey situation in their neighborhood, one Staten Islander who had a chance encounter with some 50 plucky members of the flock summed up his attitude in one word: Surprise. âI had no idea they were there. When I saw the turkeys the only thing I could think to do was take out my iPhone and start filming," said financial planner Anthony J. Carro. "All of a sudden I see these huge birds and hear all the noise their making. It was weird."